Dark Side of the Moon
by Katharos
Summary: It is their fifth year at Hogwarts, and while on detention something hapens to Harry to make this year the most memorable of them all... (Note: Not your average fifth year fic!!! Please read!!!) Update 3/19/03
1. Always Touch Wood

Authors Note: This is a challenge fic, issued by Pheonixx

Authors Note: This is a challenge fic, issued by Pheonixx. Sadly, family problems prevented me from finishing it in time for the deadline but I'm posting it anyway.

Disclaimer: Any of the characters you recognise, they're not mine; they belong to J K Rowling. Only this story line is mine.

Distribution: If you want it, take it, but tell me where it's going.

Timeline: Fifth book time, though I will be paying no attention to any spoilers in this.

Category: Horror

Content Warnings: Deaths, mental torture, physical torture, high angst, violence

Rating: PG-13

Status: Work in Progress. (Sort of, I'm going to keep you waiting for parts! ::grins evilly::)

Summary: On a detention in the Forbidden Forest, Harry is attacked by a…

Dark Side of the Moon

Harry shook his head slightly in amazement as Professor Snape ordered them to start tidying away for the end of their potions lesson the mixture of Slytherin and Gryffindor students began standing, gathering up books, parchment and quills, ready to go to their next lesson. 'A whole potion lesson and Snape only took five points from Gryffindor,' he thought in amazement. 'I wonder if he's turning over a new leaf this year? Either that or he's not feeling very well.' Everything considered, Harry suspected that the 'not feeling well,' theory over the other.

"Can you believe it?" Harry's friend, Ron asked. "First Potion Lesson of the year, and he didn't even yell at Neville! Well," Ron conceded, "Much. Not as much as he usually does, anyway." Harry grinned and nodded.

"I know," he agreed. "Makes you wonder if he's sick or something."

"Oh come on." Harry's other friend, Hermione, broke in. "Maybe he's just trying to be nice for a change." At Ron and Harry's frankly disbelieving looks she laughed. "Alright," she conceded. "Maybe that is a bit farfetched."

"Just a bit!" Ron said scathingly. Harry laughed. 

"Look," he said, gathering up the scales they had used to measure the ingredients for their Blissfulness Potion. "I'll put these away, shall I?"

"Yeah, thanks," Ron said distractedly as he tried to gingerly nudge his spare rat brains into their container, touching them as little as possible. Harry shook his head and gathered up the brass scales they had used and carried it over to the stone gargoyle. He shivered slightly as he stuck his hands under the icy cold water jetting from the gargoyle's mouth to wash the remains of various potion ingredients off the scales.

Finished, Harry turned around, almost knocking over Draco Malfoy who was stood right behind him.

"Watch where you're going, oaf!" Malfoy sneered as he pushed roughly past him. Harry wisely kept his mouth shut, biting down any retaliation. Malfoy was Snape's favourite, and it wouldn't do to destroy their record.

Harry turned to make his way back to Ron and Hermione but tripped, stumbling over the foot Malfoy had slyly stuck out in his path. Harry wobbled, trying desperately to keep his balance, but one foot landed in a puddle of water splashed from the stone basin. He struggled to right himself, but slipped, fell, and…

CRASH!!!

There were shrieks of alarm coming from the class. Harry, head wringing from the crash lay on the stone floor, side aching. He stared. He had succeeded, (With a little help from Malfoy, he thought sardonically,) in completely knocking over a tall wooden cupboard, which now slumped drunkenly, doors hanging upon on the floor. All its contents had spilled out- glass phials, glass measuring tubes, glass containers- and lay utterly smashed on the dungeon floor, glittering in the light from the three cauldron fires that had yet to be put out. Harry gulped and looked at Snape who was bearing down on him, an oddly pleased smile on his face.

"Well, well, well, what has happened here?" Snape asked smoothly, black eyes glittering. Harry opened his mouth to say something, then shut it, deciding he would be punished anyway and he would probably only increase it by answering back. He caught sight of Malfoy's smirking face out of the corner of his eye and felt a rush of anger. As soon as he had the chance he promised himself grimly he'd practice one of the curses he had learnt for the Third Task on him. Automatically Harry fought down the sudden surge of fear and guilt that came whenever he thought of the Third Task. The Third Task, Cedric and… Voldemort.

He pushed those thoughts firmly out of his mind and concentrated on Snape, who would never be nearly as scary as Voldemort and was, as strange as it sounded at this moment in time, on their side. Snape was speaking.

"Couldn't resist just entering the new school year, with a bang, could you, Potter? Just had to draw a little more attention to yourself."

"But- Owww!" Ron exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder. Harry felt a momentary flash of gratitude to Hermione.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor, I think." Snape decreed. Harry gaped at him, and there was a rumble of protest from the Gryffindor half of the class.

"And," Snape continued, "Detention."

"What!" Harry said in shock. "Professor…"

"Unless you would like to make it fifty points from Gryffindor?" Snape asked, his eyes glittering. Harry fell silent. "You will stay behind to receive your detention." Snape eyed him with disgust and added: "And get up." 

Harry stood up and made his way over to his friends, glaring at Snape resentfully as the Potions Master flicked his wand, repairing the cupboard and glass occupants in a few seconds. 

"What happened?" Ron murmured to Harry as they packed their books into their bags.

"Malfoy tripped me," Harry whispered back.

"Slimy git." Ron muttered. Harry groaned and rested his head on his arms. 

"Thirty points from Gryffindor," he moaned. "_Already_,"

"Well, we were really asking for it." Hermione said with a sigh. Ron frowned at her.

"What d'you mean?" he asked.

"Well, going on about how Professor Snape had took hardly any points from us, we were just asking for something like this to happen," Hermione said. "We should at least have touched wood."

"I never figured you for the superstitious type, Hermione," Harry teased. Hermione blushed red.

"Yeah," Ron laughed. "Next thing you know, you'll be joining Lavender and Parvati worshipping at Trewlaney's feet every break time!" Hermione glared at him and opened her mouth to say something scathing in retort, but just then the bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson and the class as one made a stampede for the door.

"We'll wait for you outside, OK?" Ron muttered to Harry before he and Hermione exited the dungeon and Harry was left to gloomily approach Snape's desk, wandering what he had in store for him. He remembered with a shudder Ron's detention in their third year- to clean all the bedpans in the infirmary, without magic. Harry wondered inwardly what could possibly top that, but he was sure that Snape would find something.

"Potter," Harry noticed that Snape's eyes gleamed with anticipation and Harry wondered what he could possibly have come up with. "Professor Sprout has need of some assistance harvesting a certain plant," Snape continued. "Report to Greenhouse 3 tomorrow night at seven o'clock for your detention." That's it? Harry thought in bewilderment, then noticed that Snape's eyes were still gleaming with anticipation, and Harry immediately began wondering what sort of plant Professor Sprout needed help in harvesting, and exactly how deadly it was. "Now get to your next class," Snape snapped suddenly, making Harry jump. Harry turned silently, picked up his bag and left the classroom.

He, Ron and Hermione had to run to get to Charms in time, but Harry was able to explain hurriedly what his detention was. Ron agreed with Harry that the plant in question was most likely deadly, probably something along the lines of the Devil's Snare. Hermione pointed out that Professor Sprout was the one actually taking the detention, so it wouldn't be fatal to Harry. In view of this, Harry went to bed that night a bit more relaxed then he would have been otherwise. After all, he thought before he dropped off to sleep, it's not as if we're going into the Forbidden Forest.


	2. Detention in the Forest.

Disclaimer in First Part

Disclaimer in First Part. Enjoy!

*******

Next evening at about nine o'clock Harry made his way down to the greenhouses for his detention. Professor Sprout was waiting for him.

"Ah, Potter good." She said brightly. "You've got your wand?" Harry pulled it out of his pocket. "Good, you'll need it in the Forest." Harry stared at her.

"We're going into the Forest?!" he asked. Professor Sprout looked surprised. 

"Yes, didn't Professor Snape tell you?" Harry shook his head grimly. Professor Sprout snorted and muttered something that sounded like 'typical.' Harry suppressed a grin. Sprout regarded him.

"Well, this needs to be done," she said grimly. "Come here." She beckoned Harry over as she pulled a large book down from a shelf a flipped through it. "Here," she said at last, stopping on a page." Look at this." Harry obediently looked at the page. There were two pictures, one of a white/silver flower that resembled Muggle snowdrops, and then one of the same flower opened wide, a silver light glowing at its centre. Harry started reading the text as Sprout bustled around, collecting what they would need.

Moondrops.

Moondrops are an extremely rare flower. As they only glow where 

werewolves are found, the persecution of werewolves have driven 

this already rare flower to near extinction. One of the few places left in

Britain where Moondrops still grow is the Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts.

Moondrops have many valuable healing properties, and are essential

in many of the most powerful protection spells, including the Fidelius 

Charm. These properties are only awakened when the moondrop opens, 

which only occurs under a full moon. Because of this, moondrops

can only be harvested on the night of the full moon if you wish to retain

its powers.

Harry looked up from the book, wide eyed, to glance up at the moon, just beginning to rise over the Scottish mountains.

"Here," Professor Sprout interrupted him, thrusting a container of potion at him. "Take this, it's a Preserver Potion to keep the Moondrops-"

"Professor," Harry blurted out. "It's the full moon!" Sprout looked at him understandingly.

"Don't worry," she said. "Just keep your eyes open and your hand near your wand and you'll be all right. Natural werewolves tend to avoid humans, unlike Bitten Ones"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, curious in spite of himself.

"Natural werewolves are born that way." Professor Sprout explained. "They're half wolf, never totally regain their human form. The only thing that happens to them on a full moon is that they transform completely into their wolf self, and they lose their minds."

"What about Bitten Ones?" Harry asked.

"Those are werewolves that are born human." Sprout replied. "They are bitten, either by a Natural werewolf or another Bitten one and are cursed. They remain in human mind and form most of the time, then at the full moon transform. They are attracted to humans, unlike naturals, probably because they were once human themselves. They're more violent than Naturals, and bite and scratch themselves if they can't get at humans." Sprout fell silent and Harry remembered Lupin, the desolate look that had been in his eyes as he told them what he did to himself during his transformations in the Shrieking Shack… "Anyway," Sprout said briskly, "You should be asking Hagrid about this, not me. I only know so much because I have to go into the Forest a lot. Pays to know what you're getting yourself into."

"Ummm, about that…" Harry began.

"Oh, we'll be OK," Sprout said cheerfully. "Just light your wand." She waited while Harry muttered 'Lumos' "And then we'll go." As Harry trudged after the Herbology Professor into the Dark Forest, he couldn't shake a bad feeling about this.

Half an hour later it still hadn't left him, though tiredness had replaced it somewhat. Half an hour of pushing through undergrowth, and the only light they had seen was that from their wands. Even the stars had been covered by heavy clouds.

Harry yawned widely, glancing around then stopped. Nestled at the foot of a small tree on the edge of a clearing just to his right were gleaming clumps of silver.

"Professor," he whispered. Sprout turned around.

"Yes, what… Oh!" She caught sight of the glowing flowers and hurried over to them, Harry trailing behind her carrying the container of Preserver Potion. She dropped to her knees to examine them. "Well down Potter," she praised, "These are unusually fine specimens, well done!"

"Great," Harry muttered, glancing around nervously as Professor Sprout bent over the softly shining moondrops, examining them closely. He couldn't shake a bad feeling. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he resisted the urge to rub his arms. Professor Sprout was still bent over her plants as Harry set the Potion down carefully. 'You're just being paranoid,' he tried to tell himself, but his hand slipped inside his robes to touch the reassuring smoothness of his wand. He eyed the surrounding trees carefully, listening, he wasn't sure for what. Harry bit his lip, memories coming to him of his less-then-pleasant experiences in the forest.

"Potter," he jumped, startled. And looked back to Sprout. She hadn't even looked up. "Can you open the Potion?" she continued. "I think-" There was no warning before a weight suddenly bore Harry to the ground. He cried out, reaching for his wand. Snarling, and he ducked his head just in time to avoid gleaming teeth aiming for his throat. Then the weight was suddenly gone and he sprang to his feet, wand in hand, and stared in horror at the three wolves, o, werewolves, approaching them.

"Professor!" he called, throat tight as he stared at them wide-eyed.

"Right, Potter," he heard her come up behind him, not daring to take his eyes of the wolves. "On the count of three, stunning spells, ok? One-" she didn't get to finish as the three wolves lunged as one. Harry dived to one side with Seeker reflexes, avoiding them, but Professor sprout wasn't so lucky as she was knocked backwards, her head hitting a tree with a loud 'crack'

"No!" Harry shouted. He scrambled to his feet, racing to put himself between the 'wolves and Sprout. 'Not again,' he thought frantically, 'I won't let anyone else die because of me!' The lead wolf had put his head down, preparing to rip her throat out- "Incendio!" Harry shouted. A jet of fire shot out of his wand in front of the 'wolf's nose. It reared back, yelping, and turned to face Harry, growling deeply in the back of his throat as Harry placed himself between it and its intended prey. 

Harry swallowed hard, gripping his wand tightly as he face the three wolves, heart pounding. He was almost supernaturally aware of his surroundings as he stared at his attackers. His mind raced, trying to find any way out of this. Then, as if at some signal, the wolves rushed at him.

"Stupefy!" he shouted. The spell hit one, it stumbled but didn't stop it, and then they were on him. Harry hit the ground again, terror in him as he tried to aim his wand, tried to think of any spell that could help him, he screamed as teeth ripped into his side. The pain spread through his body, as bad as the Cruciatus Curse. He screwed up his courage, raised his wand and shouted "Expecto Patronum!" The silver stag burst out of his wand driving the 'wolves back, he could hear their terrified yelps fading as he collapsed back onto the ground. Dimly he could see his blood soaked robes and before he slipped into unconsciousness, with a sickening feeling he realised what that meant as he fell into blessed darkness.

*******

Ohh, a cliffhanger! Please review!!!!!!! No flames, but constructive criticism welcome.


	3. Numbing Realisation

Here's the third part, hope you enjoy it

Here's the third part, hope you enjoy it! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and keep them coming! Helps me write faster.

*******

Harry stirred slightly, moaning softly. Voices jabbered around him and he attempted to listen, to understand them.

"It is lucky that you found him Hagrid, I hate to think what could have happened to him out in the Forest unconscious if you had not."

"It's to much! 'asn't he been through enough?"

"I'm sure he'll be alright, Hagrid. Apart from the- the bite, he has few injuries."

"What I would like to know is why Natural werewolves would attack someone who was no threat to them."

"Voldemort, Minerva, what else? His rising has many of the Dark Creatures agitated, more viscous than usual. You cannot perform such an unnatural piece of magic without repercussions."

The Forest, werewolves, the bite…

Harry bolted upright, scrambling frantically at his clothes, resisting the hands that tried to push him down flat, ignoring the voices trying to get him to calm down, he had to know! He got his pyjama top open and there, on his side, a scar in the shape of a moon.

Harry collapsed back down limply on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He could hear Dumbledore's voice ushering the others out, but he couldn't pay any attention to the words. Werewolf, he was a werewolf… Harry heard someone sit down next to him and he turned his head slowly to meet Dumbledore's concerned blue gaze.

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore said quietly.

"I'm a werewolf," Harry interrupted, throat tight.

"You are," Dumbledore agreed quietly, "But that does not change who you are. And you have learnt, I hope, that the prejudice most people feel is not based in fact?" Harry nodded numbly, and Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Remus Lupin is a werewolf, Harry," he said quietly. "And he is one of the noblest people a know, he was one of your Father's best friends." Harry continued to just nod, he couldn't think, he felt as if everything was happening at a great distance. Dumbledore gripped his shoulder tightly, and Harry realised that he was shaking, badly. "The school will not be told," Dumbledore went on, "And it is your choice whether you tell your friends." Harry nodded again.

Dumbledore sighed and sat back, regarding Harry with compassion. "I am sorry to have to tell you this, but the Wolfsbane potion," he hesitated. Harry stared at him, heart pounding. What did he mean? Dumbledore continued. "The Potion does not have any affect for the first few months on the transformations of a werewolf." Harry stared at him as his words sank in.

"Wh-what," Harry whispered. 

"I'm sorry Harry," Dumbledore spoke gently. Harry closed his eyes, trying to get a hold on himself. As if from a long way a way he could hear Dumbledore's voice. "You will have to use the Shrieking Shack once a month, don't worry, you should be able to use the Wolfsbane Potion by Early Spring." Harry opened his eyes slowly.

"Professor," he whispered, "Could I contact Sirius and Professor Lupin?" Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"I'm sorry Harry," he said. "But Sirius and Remus are on a mission for me at the moment. To contact them would put their lives in danger." Harry stared at him.

"What!" he said frantically, I-I need…" he trailed off, and closed his eyes in resignation. He couldn't put their lives in danger just for him. Dumbledore pressed his shoulder gently.

"I'm going to let the others back in, OK?" he said. "Madam Pomfrey needs to check the rest of your injuries." Harry nodded, not opening his eyes. He heard Dumbledore walking acoss the floor, the door opening and a low murmur of voices, then feet tramping across the floor. Harry forced himself to open his eyes, bracing himself for the looks of pity he would receive.

Harry stared. The first person he saw was Professor Snape. Harry stared at him, hands balling into fists as anger welled up in him.

"I-I'm sorry, Potter," Snape said hoarsely. Harry's head shot up and he stared at him in surprise. Snape looked white- whiter than usual. "I- I didn't-" Snape stopped and swallowed, then looked at Harry pleadingly. Harry looked down and nodded, once. HE couldn't have meant for that to happen, Harry argued with himself. He listened with half an ear as Dumbledore ushered Snape and Professor McGonagall out, asking them quietly if they could inform the school. Madam Pomfrey was examining, tutting at the number of injuries he had.

Suddenly Harry remembered something.

"Professor!" he asked quickly, "Is, is Professor Sprout OK?" One look at Dumbledore's expression gave him his answer and he fell back against his bed, stunned.

"I'm sorry Harry," Professor Dumbledore said gently, his own voice near to breaking.

"I tried to save her," Harry mumbled thickly as he stared up at the ceiling, blinking back tears.

"You did as much as you could," Dumbledore said quietly. He sighed and stood up. "We'll let you get some sleep Harry," he added.

"I'll stay with 'im, Headmaster." Harry heard Hagrid say.

"Thank you, Hagrid" Dumbledore replied. He and Madam Pomfrey left and Hagrid came over to stand next to Harry's bed.

"Erm, how are yeh?" Hagrid asked awkwardly. Harry didn't answer and Hagrid sighed. "Harry, its no' the end o' the world." Harry let out a short laugh.

"I'm a werewolf."

"I'm half-giant." Harry looked up at Hagrid helplessly. Hagrid sat down next to him, the bed creaking alarmingly under his weight. "It don' matter wha' people say, Harry," Hagrid said quietly, kindly. "Wha' matters is wha' you think of yourself. People say tha' giants are viscous brutes, tha' they'd kill yer as soon as look at yer."

"You wouldn't," Harry said at once.

"An neither would you!" Hagrid said, poking Harry with one large finger to emphasise his point. "Yer no' goin' ter suddenly change jus' cos you've got another curse scar ter add ter your collection! Yer too strong fer that Harry, to stubborn." Harry blinked back sudden tears.

"Thanks, Hagrid." He said quietly.

"Ahh, Harry," Hagrid caught Harry in a strong one-armed hug. "Don' fret, you'll be OK. Dumbledore will make sure of that." Harry yawned, then blushed. Hagrid chuckled and let him lie back down on the bed. "It's tirein'" he told him quietly. "Yer whole body's changin'. Best ter just sleep."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry whispered tiredly.

"Yer welcome," he heard Hagrid reply before he dropped off to sleep.

&&&&&&&&

Please R&R!


	4. Brooding and Nightmares

Here's the next part, hope you enjoy it

Here's the next part, hope you enjoy it! Please continue to review, I live off feedback.

*********

Harry returned to school a few days later. 

The official story that had been given out to the school was that Harry and Professor Sprout had been attacked by a some of the creatures that lurked in the Forest, pretty much true, while in their on a detention. Of course, rumours abounded about what had really happened. Popular ones included an attack by 'You-Know-Who or his Death Eaters, even if there was no Dark Mark to be seen.

The Hufflepuffs walked the corridors quietly, often red eyed, and even the Slytherins refrained from mentioning the subject to them, out of respect for them having lost two members of their house in such a short space of time. A new head of House had yet to be chosen and until then the heads of the other three Houses were splitting the work between them.

Harry was once again being avoided in the corridors, people skirting him and whispering behind their hands. In a way he was glad to be left alone, and even Ron and Hermione seemed to be avoiding him. Memories of the attack haunted him, repeating themselves in his dreams nightly. He began spending more and more time in the library, burying himself in books about werewolves.

Harry winced as he placed the latest in a long line of books back on its shelf, ignoring Madam Pince's stare on the back of his neck and selected another one. The book that he had just replaced had devoted three chapters to the 'fact' that werewolves were only animals, that they were innately violent and that the only magic they were capable of performing were the Dark Arts. 'But Professor Lupin isn't like that,' he told himself firmly. 'And so it's not true.' That was Harry's answer to many of the things that were said about werewolves.

Harry sighed and sank down into one of the chairs provided for reading. He wished that he could talk to Lupin, to talk to someone who really knew what it was like to be a werewolf, not what some bigots wrote in books.

Harry stared down at the book resting in his hands, eyes tracing the leather working inscribed in the front cover. It was scary. Scary to read about the amount o hate wizards felt towards werewolves… to him. Harry closed his eyes. Great he thought bitterly. Not only am I a parseltongue, I'm also a werewolf. To reasons for people to hate me, not to mention the fact that four people have died because of me and I helped Voldemort return.

Someone sat down next to him and he looked up startled. He hardly needed to. He recognised Ron's smell at once and he shivered at this reminder at what he was. Ron was looking at him in concern.

"Are you alright, Harry?" he asked.

"Of course," Harry replied, forcing a smile.

"Well you don't look it," Hermione said bluntly as she sat down on his other side. Her expression softened in concern and she rested a hand on his shoulder. "We're worried about you, Harry," she said quietly. "You know you can always talk to us."

"Yeah Harry," Ron added, "We're your best friends. It was too much. The waves of concern and love coming off them both were too much and Harry broke down, crying. Hermione put her hands around him, hugging him.

"She's dead," Harry whispered. "I didn't save her." 

"You couldn't have done, Harry." Ron said quietly. "You did all you could." Harry just cried, for the first time since he had realised what he now was, he cried as Hermione hugged him gently and Ron spoke encouraging words. 'But she's dead he thought in anguish. I 'm a werewolf and Professor Sprout is still dead! I couldn't save her, I couldn't save Cedric, no matter what I did! But he drew strength from his friends. They were there. They wouldn't abandon him.

*******

Someone was screaming. Harry turned desperately. Where was she? She sounded so frightened… Then he saw her. 

"Hermione!" he yelled. He tried to run towards her but she backed away, a look of terror on her face. He paused. "Hermione?" he asked uncertainly. She tripped and fell, he bent forward automatically to help her but she pressed herself back against the wall and pointed an accusing finger at him.

"He's a werewolf!" she shrieked. Harry stumbled back, feeling as if he had been struck a physical blow. He turned to one side and saw Ron standing there.

"Ron!" he said desperately, stepping towards him pleadingly. Ron stepped back, anger and hate clear on his face.

"Get away from me, werewolf!" he spat. Harry froze.

"Ron," he whispered, "I'm still Harry!" Ron's expression didn't soften.

"You're a werewolf," he said coldly.

"A Dark Creature." Hermione had come up behind him.

"Please," Harry pleaded helplessly, not sure what he was asking for. Then he looked up. The full moon was riding high above. He felt the moon's pull on the beast inside him, as inexorable and unstoppable as the tides. In terror he looked back at his friends.

"Run!" he screamed. Hermione's face softened and she stepped forward.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked worriedly. "Tell us."

"Yeah, Harry," Ron stepped up next to her. "What is it?" Harry watched them, horror running through him.

"No!" he screamed at the uncaring moon but the change was coming and the wolf erupted out of his skin and he sprung at his friends and their screams mingled as his claws ripped through their flesh and his own screams faded under the howls of Dark Joy of the wolf and his friends… He looked down and he was human but his friends broken bodies lay in a pool of their own lifeblood and their blood was on his hands and he was screaming…

"Harry! Harry!" Harry's eyes flew open and he looked up into Ron's concerned face.

"Ron," he whispered. He was panting and shaking, his bed covers twisted around him.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked. "You were screaming." Harry glanced around. Neville, Dean and Seamus were sitting up, looking over at him, faces rather pale. He took in a deep breath and let it out shakily.

"I'm alright," he told them, "I'm sorry I woke you." He wiped his forehead, trying to ignore Ron's worried gaze. It was damp with sweat.

"Are you sure?" Ron's gaze still rested on him. His voice dropped. "Your scar doesn't hurt?" Harry shook his head weakly.

"No," he said softly. "Just an ordinary nightmare." Ron gave him a doubtful look but nodded reluctantly.

"Ok," he said. "But you could try getting some of that Dreamless Sleep potion from Madam Pomfrey." Harry yawned wearily.

"No," he explained, "It can be addictive if you use it to much." Ron looked at him in a way that was asking, 'and how do you know that?' Harry didn't feel like coming up with yet another lie, and he certainly couldn't tell Ron that Madam Pomfrey had told him so after he had begged for something to stop the dreams every night, so kept silent. Ron sighed.

"All right, well…" he seemed about to say something and then stopped. "Good night,"

"Night," Harry agreed, settling back down onto his bed and closing his eyes. He could hear the others getting back into their beds. He could even hear their breathing slowing, their hearts settling into a steady rhythm. He gritted his teeth, forcing back the thought that came to him from the darkness in the depths of his mind, the thought that they were now vulnerable to attack. That was what terrified him. The tiny pieces of evidence, the enhanced senses and speed, the thoughts of a killing beast… All those little things that proved to him that the Wolf was inside him all the time. 

Harry could feel Ron's piercing gaze on him, he was the only one in the dormitory who had not dropped back of to sleep. Harry knew that Ron and Hermione suspected there was something wrong with him, though for the most part they were too deeply involved in each other as they tried to work out if a relationship was possible without them killing each other. And Harry was thankful for that. He didn't want them to know what he now was.

'But why?' he asked himself now. "Why don't you just tell them what has happened to you?' Harry sighed softly. He knew why. The dream he had just had proved it. Every time he allowed himself to think, to imagine telling them… he couldn't help remembering the prejudice infecting the wizarding community as a whole, the shrieking shack, when they had condemned Lupin… It would kill him to have them turn that on himself. But not any more, he tried helplessly to convince himself. They accept him now. And yet… Harry felt bile rising in the back of his throat as he remembered the last scene of his dream. Remembered their screams, the blood… They're safer he told himself firmly. Safer not knowing, so I- so I can't hurt them. Harry felt tears prickling at his eyes. Just until Sirius and Lupin get back he told himself. I just have to hold on till then….


	5. First Full Moon

Quite a few of you have expressed interest in reading this part, hope it lives up to expectations

Quite a few of you have expressed interest in reading this part, hope it lives up to expectations! Sorry about the double post. Please review!

*******

All too soon it was the night of the full moon.

Harry was shaking as he got up from his armchair by the fire. Hermione looked up at him curiously.

"Where are you going?" she asked. Harry took a deep breath and prepared to deliver his carefully planned lie.

"To the hospital wing," he said with forced casualness. "I'm not feeling great."

"Are you Ok? Do you want one of us to come with you?" Ron was looking up now, concerned.

"No," Harry said quickly. He forced a grin. "It's probably nothing." Ron nodded.

"Ok," he said. Hermione echoed him.

Harry felt a twisting in his stomach as he pushed his way across the crowded common room. He hated lying to them… But he wasn't sure that he could bring himself to tell them the truth. Harry clambered awkwardly through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady, who was gossiping happily with her friend Violet didn't even noticed as he pushed past them.

Harry made his way hurriedly through the dark, silent Hogwarts corridors. Madam Pomfrey was waiting for him by the doors leading to the grounds.

"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked kindly, but her eyes were worried. Harry nodded jerkily. A fine trembling had taken over his body. "Come on then," Madam Pomfrey said quietly. She put a hand on his shoulder and guided him quickly across the grounds. Harry looked up at the sky. It was just growing dark, the first stars coming out though the moon was not yet visible. 

He could feel it, though. He had felt it all week as it waxed larger and larger. Now, it was an ominous presence at his back. They had reached the Whomping Willow Harry watched as the long branches flailed at the air. He glanced sideways at Madam Pomfrey as she picked up a long branch and jabbed the knot on the trunk. The Willow froze in mid potion. Harry was shaking again, staring at the gap in the Willows roots. He jumped as Madam Pomfrey set her hand on his shoulder and turned to stare at her, almost pleadingly.

The look in Madam Pomfrey's eyes was pitying as she gently guided Harry down into the tunnel. Harry felt bile rising in the back of his throat as he stumbled along the passage. Madam Pomfrey's hand between his shoulder blades was about all that was keeping him from bolting.

At last they reached the end of the passage and the trapdoor up to the Shrieking Shack. Shakily, Harry slipped off his robes, handing them to Madam Pomfrey. Underneath he wore some of his oldest Muggle clothes, ones it would not matter if they were destroyed. Madam Pomfrey took his robes from him, and then helped him pull himself up through the trapdoor. Harry was shaking so badly he would not have managed on his own. At last he was kneeling by the opening, Madam Pomfrey's concerned face staring up at him.

"I'll come back for you tomorrow morning to- to take you back up to the school," she told him quietly. Harry nodded stiffly. He knew what she had been going to say; to heal his self inflicted wounds. She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something, and then closed the trapdoor. The drawing of the bolts sounded like a death knell to Harry. He was shaking even more violently now. He hugged himself, eyes darting frantically around the shack, taking in the wreaked furniture, the score marks in the floor and walls. He remembered meeting Sirius hear, still believing him to be a murderer, remembered the way Lupin had looked around the Shack… 

Harry swallowed hard and then threw back his head, listening. He could feel the moon rising, feel the first pulls on something deep within him. 

"No," Harry whispered, "No!" he screamed as the first moonlight penetrated the cracks in the Shacks walls. He sank to his knees, breathing heavily, shakily trying to control the overwhelming pain emanating from with in him. He screamed again, feeling as if he was being torn in two. The pain was excruciating, worse then the Cruciatus Curse and Harry collapsed to the floor, body writhing in convulsions. No no no no Harry chanted silently to himself as another scream was ripped from his mouth. The darkness that had been growing within his burst forth and then… he felt his skin tearing and he screamed, felt his bones twist and crack as they reshaped himself, he was panting, too wrapped up in the Change to scream anymore… too overwhelmed. Tears streamed down his cheeks even as his head twisted, his face shot out in a muzzle as his teeth sharpened and he flung back his head and howled. Harry felt his mind slipping away, tried to hold onto it, tried to fight the pull, but it was gone, his sanity, his humanity, and then he lost even the knowledge of that loss as he rose to pace back and forth, a Wolf.

The Wolf's nose flared, scenting. Humans! The Wolf flung itself at the wall, seeking, searching. He crashed into the wall, and heard the howls of the wolf pack in the forest. His ears pricked, the urge to join them strong. He paced the Shack, snarling at the smell of humans that remained within it, at the warm smells of them without. With a howl the Wolf flung itself at the walls again, seeking escape. When they did not yield the Wolf attacked the furniture, ripping it into pieces. He snarled in frustration, leaping at the walls as the unattainable scent of humans slowly drove him insane and he turned on himself, biting and scratching his own body in an attempt to satisfy his unfulfilled urgings. He didn't even register the pain he was inflicting on himself as he howled his anger and hatred at the humans and took it out on himself. As the moon rode high in the night sky, driving him to this madness.

The moon sank slowly under the horizon and the Wolf collapsed to the floor, panting, bleeding in many places, his pelt matted with his own blood. And as the moon slipped away, its influence withdrawing the wolf howled pain, as his body once more shifted, changing back into human form.

For just a few seconds it was wonderful. Harry felt like a newborn, if you could be born with a mind aware of that fact, and then the pain set in and he gasped out loud. He curled himself up into a foetal position, not even registering his nakedness as he bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain. Tears of humiliation slid down his cheeks as memories returned to him, crystal clear of the night, of the wolfs animalistic urgings. He could remember exactly the desire to hunt, to kill. Harry's body shook with suppressed sobs and pain.

The sound of the bolts drawing back made Harry start up. He watched as Madam Pomfrey hauled herself up, then for the first time realising his nakedness he curled up, wincing, as he pulled on his wounds. 

Madam Pomfrey looked around the Shack than spotted him. Her eyes wavered somewhere between compassion and horror.

"Here you are, Harry," she said quietly, handing him a long cloak. Harry took it quickly and wrapped it around himself, wincing as the material brushed against his open wounds. "Come on then," Madam Pomfrey said, helping him up. Harry stumbled, only just registering how exhausted he was. Madam Pomfrey caught him quickly. She must have had a lot of practice with Remus Harry thought wearily as she helped him down through the trapdoor, and then along the passageway. 

As they emerged into the early morning sunlight, Harry winced and squinted. Madam Pomfrey slipped her hand inside her robes and drew out his glasses, handing them to him. Harry took them silently and put them on. He didn't trust his voice enough to speak to say thank you.

Madam Pomfrey wrapped his arm around him and helped him to stand upright and walk forward. Harry was grateful for that, even if it did aggravate his wounds. He thought it most likely that he would have collapsed from exhaustion if she hadn't.

"Just up to the hospital wing, Harry," Madam Pomfrey told him encouragingly. "Then you can sleep all day." Harry nodded silently, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. It seemed to take a painful forever to get up there, but even so it came almost as a surprise when the reached the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey helped Harry inside then settled him down on one of the beds. He was the only one in the hospital wing, luckily. 

"Just hold still," Madam Pomfrey told him quietly. Gently she poked each wound with her wand, healing the damage down to the skin and flesh. The pain remained though, a deep-seated ache. "The pain will fade," Madam Pomfrey told him. "Just sleep for now." Harry allowed her to help him into bed, but the shock was wearing off now and he had started crying again, silently. Madam Pomfrey was stroking his hair gently. "Just sleep Harry," she told him softly, "Just sleep." And even if he had wanted to, Harry couldn't have stayed awake.

********


	6. Death Eaters and Aurors

********

I am soooooooo sorry it has been so long. The end of term, and all the teachers wanting the coursework in on the last day, which I had been neglecting because of fanfiction. So BIG apologies to every one, I have returned at last. And her is a nice long chapter just to show you exactly how sorry I am. Thank you for all the reviews! I should be able to get back to regular uploading now.

Katharos

********

The chamber was dark. Slit windows set high in the stonewalls allowed thin rafts of sunlight to fall through to the Darkness below. Voldemort was seated on a throne like chair at the very end of the chamber, Nagini curled around his feet. A Death Eater approached him and knelt. He removed his hood to reveal Lucius Malfoy.

"Ah, Lucius," Voldemort hissed. "You came at my call."

"Of course, Master," Lucius replied humbly, but his eyes kept darting around the chamber, often landing on the wand Voldemort played with idly between his long thin fingers. Voldemort smiled coldly, as if he knew something of what was going through Lucius' mind.

"You will take five of the lesser Death Eaters," Voldemort ordered, "And attack Hogsmeade." Lucius' head shot up, staring at him.

"Attack Hogsmeade?!" he exclaimed, "But-"

"Are you questioning my orders, Lucius?" Voldemort inquired, a cold smile on his face. Nagini hissed, sensing her Maser's mood. Lucius swallowed hard.

"No Master," he said shakily. Voldemort smiled with satisfaction and leant back on his throne, regarding Lucius' kneeling form coolly.

"The wizarding world must learn that Albus Dumbledore is neither omnipotent nor omniscient. And what better way to prove that than an attack right under his very nose?" Lucius wisely did not answer the rhetorical question. "But first," Voldemort continued, "I think a little reminder of who is Master here. Crucio." Lucius' screams filled the echoing chamber, reverberating off the stonewalls.

********

Harry jerked awake, choking back a scream, his scar throbbing painfully, blotting out the aches left over from the healing spell. He leant forward, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes as he forced himself to take deep, steady breaths. 'Think,' he told himself desperately, 'remember.' Something about Lucius Malfoy, and Hogsmeade… One line drifted up startlingly clear from his memory. "The wizarding world must learn that Albus Dumbledore is neither omnipotent nor omniscient. And what better way to prove that than an attack right under his very nose?" Harry swallowed hard, feeling sick. He pushed back his covers and forced himself to sit on the side of the bed, feet resting on the floor. His heart was still thumping from the dream, but the pain in his scar had lessened slightly. He was Iso/ tired though, his hands trembling with fatigue, the deep seated aches where he had torn into himself in his madness not yet faded. 

Focusing, Harry pulled his mind away from the condition his body was in. That didn't matter. He had to tell Dumbledore, before the people in Hogsmeade… Swallowing determinedly, Harry pushed himself to his feet, and then stumbled, steadying himself on the bed as exhaustion rushed through him. Focusing his eyes firmly on the door, on the thought that he Ihad/I to tell Dumbledore about his dream, he staggered towards it. Just as he reached it, though, the door to Madam Pomfrey's office swung open and Madam Pomfrey stepped out. Her eyes landed on Harry and she froze, mouth gaping slightly.

"Harry," she said sharply, striding across to him, eyes snapping. "What are you doing out of bed?" she demanded as she reached him. 

"Madam Pomfrey," Harry said desperately. "Please, I need to speak to Professor Dumbledore!"

"You need to be back in bed," Madam Pomfrey said firmly, setting a hand on his shoulder in order to force him to obey her.

"No!" Harry cried, twisting away from her grip. "Please, I need to talk to Dumbledore!" He stared up at her, eyes pleading. Madam Pomfrey hesitated.

"Oh all right," She snapped finally. "But only if you promise to get straight back in bed." Harry nodded quickly, but stopped because it made his head pound. Madam Pomfrey strode over to the fire and pulled some dust out of a pot resting on the mantelpiece. She tossed it into the flames, calling out Professor Dumbledore's name. Harry watched as a dark shape appeared in the fire, revolving faster and faster until Professor Dumbledore was stepping out of the fireplace, calmly brushing some ash of his robes. Harry felt himself grow calmer immediately.

"What is it, Poppy-" Dumbledore began to ask but Harry broke in before he could finish.

"Professor, I-I've had another dream," Dumbledore was at Harry's side as if he had apparated. He stared down at him, blue eyes concerned and piercing.

"What happened?" he asked calmly but urgently. Harry swallowed and tried to steady himself.

"I-it was a hall," he began, "I don't know where, but I think it was underground. V-voldermort was talking to Lucius Malfoy, telling him to take five others and attack Hogsmeade." Dumbledore's face was grim.

"Thank you, Harry," he said quietly. "Poppy, if you could see to him? I must alert the Ministry."

"O-of course, Professor," Madam Pomfrey said shakily. Glancing sideways at her, Harry saw that her face was pale, expression shocked. Dumbledore nodded to them, then turned and swept out. As soon as he was gone, Harry began to shake, exhaustion and pain catching up with him all at once. The sight of him seemed to snap Madam Pomfrey out of his daze and she hurried over to him. 

"Come on, Harry," she murmured. "Let's get you back into bed." Harry meekly allowed her to help him, every movement an effort. Once he was back in bed though, he found he was too keyed up to fall asleep. His mind kept racing, trying to imagine what was happening in the village. Madam Pomfrey also seemed to feel the tension. She was bustling about nervously, setting out various potions and bandages and compulsively tidying the infirmary.

A few hours later the doors swung open and a collection of wizards Harry assumed were Aurors limped in, all supporting a variety of cuts and bruises as well as traces of some more unpleasant curses. Madam Pomfrey didn't say anything but sat them all down and singled out the most seriously injured with a calm efficiency that caused Harry to wonder for the first time what her role had been in the fight against Voldemort- and what it would be now. 

One of the Aurors, a tall man with black, greying hair lent back against the wall with a groan, holding a bandage to the freely bleeding cut on his chest until Pomfrey could get to him.

"That was a good fight," he commented cheerfully.

"Fortis, I would be obliged if you could leave the male bravado outside," his partner, a small women who looked even tinier next to his large frame snapped. "No fight is a good fight."

"Well this was one if any ever are," another Auror put in. "No innocents hurt, no deaths to our side, we even managed to collect a couple of Death Eaters for the Ministry to question."

The petite woman snorted, waving her hand dismissively. "Young 'uns," she said. "Probably their first blooding. No, who we really needed to get was their leader, and I'm telling you, it was that creep Lucius Malfoy!"

The large man, Fortis, groaned. "Arabella, are you ever going to give up on that?" he asked tiredly. Harry started. Arabella? Arabella Figg, one of the 'Old Crowd?' But Fortis was continuing and Harry went back to listening intently but quietly, if they new he was awake they would probably stop talking and he needed to know what had happened. "That guy is squeaky clean, and you know Fudge is convinced that the sun shines out of Lucius Malfoy's butt, especially after all that ego soothing the man did after Dumbledore washed his hands of Fudge last summer. There is no way in hell you are going to convince him that we would all be better off if Lucius was locked up in Azkaban. You can't even get a search warrant for his house! Not that you and Arthur Weasly both haven't tried." 

Arabella glared at him. "Even Fudge couldn't ignore it if Lucius was presented to him after being captured in the presence of other Death Eaters." The third Death Eater sighed.

"Even Fudge would probably manage to fudge that up," he commented. Arabella giggled at that, suddenly sounding quite young though she had to be Harry's parent's generation at least. At that moment Madam Pomfrey hurried over to them, her face lined and tired but she still managed to ask briskly who needed healing.

Fortis waved his hand languidly in the air, "I'm alright," he told her, "Just a little scratch," Arabella glared at him.

"Fortis, let her heal you right now, that Death Eater damned near took a pound of your flesh." She barked.

The huge man quailed under her ferocious glare and Harry didn't blame him. "Yes Arabella," he acquiesced meekly. Madam Pomfrey snorted in derision as she pulled the bandage Fortis had been holding away from the wound, ignoring his gasp and reproachful look as the abrupt motion pulled at the lips of it. 

"A 'scratch' indeed," she muttered at the sight of the wound, and then jabbed at with her wand, muttering a spell under her breath and watching with satisfaction as the wound closed neatly up.

"How are you these days, Poppy?" Arabella asked as Madam Pomfrey turned her attention to the series of shallow cuts patterning the small woman's left arm and side. Only when she relaxed as Pomfrey easily healed the injuries left by the curse that had caught her did Harry realise that her face had been taunt with pain. 

"I've been good," Madam Pomfrey told her as she turned her attention to the third member of the little group. A frown creased her forehead as she examined the tiny black darts buried into his skin. "I cannot heal this quickly," she told him gently, touching one of the black dots cautiously." The Auror nodded at her, offering a small smile as she set to work.

Arabella smiled appreciatively as she ran a hand along the unblemished skin of her left arm. "You certainly haven't lost your touch at healing," she commented. Madam Pomfrey snorted, keeping her eyes on her work as she gently eased each dart out of the man's skin as she answered.

"All the Quidditch injuries the students manage to accumulate keep me in practice," she said. " I had to regrow all the bones in one boys arm a few years ago. Why the Headmaster doesn't ban such a dangerous sport I really don't know."

Fortis widened his eyes, placing one hand on his chest dramatically. " Ban Quidditch!?" he gasped. "Woman, you speak blasphemy!"

"Oh shut up," Arabella snorted, shoving at him. "I know you went to that last thunderer-warrior game just to watch the fight break out."

"You wound me!" Fortis gasped, clutching at his chest.

"And," Arabella ploughed on relentlessly, "I suspect you had something to do with the disappearance of the referee."

"No that is pure slander!" Fortis said hurriedly. "Anyway, the fool deserved whatever he got, volunteering to be the referee for that game." 

Arabella shook her head helplessly. "What am I going to do with him?" she appealed to Madam Pomfrey.

Pomfrey just shook her head, chuckling quietly. "OK, last one," she announced, using her wand to flick the final black dart onto the dish containing the rest, then waved her wand over patients chest, healing the small punctures.

"Thank you," he smiled. She smiled down at him.

"Your welcome," she said and stood up, then promptly wavered on her feet and just caught herself on the bed before falling over.

"Whoa!" Arabella jumped up and helped the healer to sit down on the bed again. "You need rest, healing takes a lot of energy," she admonished her. 

"I'm fine," Pomfrey insisted stubbornly, trying to rise. "Now if you'll let me get up I have patients to attend to." Arabella opened her mouth to argue but just then Dumbledore stepped into the infirmary and all conversation ceased, eyes swivelling to him. Harry felt himself relax as he had done earlier just at the sight of him. There was a tear in his robe, which was splattered with blood, but there was a smile on his face and his eyes were twinkling and before he even opened his mouth Harry knew that everything was all right. As Dumbledore informed the room that the captured Death Eaters had been taken to the Ministry for questioning and that wards were being set up around the village to prevent this happening again, Harry was already feeling himself drifting back off to sleep as exhaustion reappeared to claim its due.

********

Harry drifted awake slowly, feeling almost reluctant to leave the warm, comfortable place he was in and wake up completely. That was when memories of the previous night drifted into his mind and he sat bolt upright, blinking the sleep from his eyes and groping on the bed side table for his glasses. Slipping them on, he glanced at the source of the soft snores that were drifting through the hospital wing and smiled softly. Madam Pomfrey lay sprawled asleep on one of the hospital beds. Harry smiled, thinking that Arabella must have finally managed to get her to get some sleep. The thought of the petite, fierce Auror made him glance around in search of her or the other Aurors who had come to ward of the Death Eater attack on Hogsmeade. There was no sign of them in the open infirmary, and Harry assumed that those who could must have returned home once they were healed. However, a partition had been put up at the end of the ward, so those who were severely injured must have had to stay the night.

Harry lay back down on the bed, eyes idly searching the walls for a clock. Once he found one though he shot straight back up. Four o'clock in the afternoon?!! Harry slumped back down on the bed, rubbing his eyes. I must have been really tired, he thought. He groaned and shifted on the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. If he was truthful with himself, he still felt tired now. Harry hoped that he wouldn't be this bad after every full moon, though remembering how Lupin had looked, he admitted that that was probably a futile hope. 

A furtive knock at the door made Harry start and look up- and then grin. Peering around the door was Ron and Hermione, faces cautious. Harry put a finger to his lips and then beckoned them inside. Ron hurried over to the bed as Harry struggled to sit up once more and Hermione carefully closed the door behind her before coming over to join them. Ron grinned but his eyes were concerned.

"How're you feeling?" he asked. Harry sighed. 

"I'm fine," he said, then spotted the box Ron was holding. "Is that chocolate frogs?" he asked eagerly. Ron grinned, evidently reassured, and plonked the box down on the bed before helping himself. Hermione tsked reprovingly.

"Ron," she said, "I'm not sure if Harry should be having-"

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Harry said, his voice a bit muffled as it was full of chocolate. "I'm fine." Hermione looked uncertain for a moment, then sighed and gave in, plonking herself down on the bed and helping herself to a frog. 

"So what happened?" Ron asked. 

Harry phrased his words carefully as he began to tell them. "I had a fever," he said, "So Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion for it, but she wanted me to stay the night. Early this morning I had a dream." Harry went on to quickly detail the dream and then what had happened afterwards. Ron and Hermione's eyes were wide when he had finished.

"So what happened to Madam Pomfrey?" Ron asked, nodding to the near comatose figure on the other bed.

"She was exhausted," Harry explained.

"Yes," Hermione nodded in understanding. "Healing takes some of the energy of the person performing it as it essentially speeds up the natural healing of the patient, who afterwards himself or herself will feel tired. Healers learn to ration their strength in order to do the most healing. An untrained person attempting a healing spell will often collapse unconscious, their energy drained from them by the spell."

Harry quickly stifled a grin as he heard Ron murmur; "Thus speaks the walking textbook," Hermione evidently heard him as well for she sent a quick glare his way before ignoring him. 

"You didn't miss much anyway," Ron said. "Snape was his usual nasty self today in potions, really on edge. Although," he added, a dreamy expression sliding across his face. "He did take ten points off Malfoy for speculating where you were." Harry forced a laugh. He was pretty sure he knew why Snape was so on edge; he was feeling guilty for what had happened. Harry had noticed that in the past few weeks Snape had become, well, not Inicer/I to the Gryffindors, but he had stopped picking on them, and Harry especially. Harry hadn't been able to stay angry with Snape for long; he knew that Snape couldn't have wanted this to happen to him.

"Hello! Earth to Harry!" 

"What?" Harry blinked and Hermione stopped clicking her fingers in front of his face. 

"Are you alright? You were miles away then," she asked concernedly.

Harry forced a smile. "I'm alright," he said. "Just a bit tired."

Hermione nodded. "We're leaving now," she said.

"Yeah," Ron said with a grin. "We don't want to wait till Madam Pomfrey wakes up to kick us out." He grimaced and rubbed at his rear end theatrically. Harry laughed tiredly and laid his head back down on his pillow. He hardly had time to hear the door click shut behind his two friends before he drifted back to sleep.

********

OK, I never meant for the Aurors, bit to be so long, but I hoped you enjoyed it even though it will have no real relevance to this story. Please review, no flames. (Or only very small ones.) By the way, was Voldemort evil? Or do I have to do some more work on him?


	7. Hogsmeade Weekend and Christmas Shopping

I just want to mention all you wonderful people who have read and reviewed my story, thanks so much to all of you

First, I want to say thank you to all the wonderful people who have reviewed this story. A few questions that keep popping up in your reviews is 'When is Harry going to tell Ron and Hermione?' Well, Harry is afraid that they would reject him if they knew, and I know that doesn't make sense but fear isn't rational. They are going to have to discover it for themselves. Lupin and Sirius won't be in this story until the last few chapters, but they'll probably be more so in the sequel, (if you want one?) Someone asked if the Arabella Figg mentioned last chapter was the same one as Harry's neighbour, she's not. Harry's neighbour is an old woman, this Arabella is Sirius and Lupin's age, there's no connection. I nearly have another chapter ready for Vampyre, my other Harry Potter story, and hopefully that will be ready by tomorrow. Originally this chapter was going to be very short, but I have decided to combine two into one. Hope you enjoy!

Katharos

********

Harry stumbled along the corridor towards the Gryffindor common room. He ached all over, the healing charms that Madam Pomfrey had used to heal his self-inflicted wounds couldn't immediately banish the pain associated with them, even after a whole days rest in the hospital wing. Harry leant against the cool stonewall and closed his eyes. It was only his second transformation, only the second time he had felt the wolf burst out of his skin, felt his mind slip away, submerged by the brutality within the beast. Dimly, he remembered Madam Pomfrey taking him across to the Whomping Willow, remembered his fear. Was it easier this second time? Harry wondered. Or was it worse because I now know what to expect? He let out a shuddering sigh. It didn't really matter now. He had survived, he had got through it. Now there was a whole month before the next full moon. Harry felt a bitter smile tug at his lips. It didn't really seem that long.

With a sigh he pushed himself away from the wall, continuing down to the portrait hole. He was exhausted, the days sleep might never have happened as far as his body was concerned.

"Goodness me!" the fat lady was staring down at him in horror. "What happened to you?" Harry blinked blearily up at her.

"Nothing," he said shortly. "Hippogriff." The fat lady, looking decidedly unconvinced, swung forward to let him in. A wry smirk appeared on Harry's face as he scrambled through the hole. 'Nothing' was far from what had happened to him. Harry dropped into the common room- and froze. Ron and Hermione were inhabiting the armchair closest to the embers of the fire and they were rather… involved in one another. Harry grinned rather evilly and cleared his throat loudly. Ron and Hermione jumped apart from each other as if they had been shot, faces burning. Harry folded his arms, smirking.

"So, how much is it worth to you for me to not tell Fred and George?" he asked.

"H-Harry!" Ron gasped. "We were… we were just-"

"Kissing?" Harry suggested.

"I-I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione said quietly. Harry stared at her in bewilderment.

"Sorry? What are you- Oh!" Harry's eyes widened in realisation- then he burst out laughing. Ron and Hermione looked at him in confusion.

"Harry," Ron said, "Harry!" Harry fought to regain control of himself.

"I'm sorry," he said weakly. "It's just…" He shook his head. "It's so obvious that you two, I mean…"

"You're not jealous then?" Hermione asked, relieved.

"Of course not!" said Harry. He grinned. "That's Ron's place." Hermione laughed.

"That's certainly true," she said.

"Hey-" Ron began. Hermione silenced him with a quick kiss.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" Harry asked, suddenly realising. Ron looked uncomfortable.

"Pretty much," he said sheepishly. Harry shook his head slowly.

"You two are my best friends," he said quietly. "I've known for ages that you'd eventually get together, I was getting annoyed at how long it was taking you! I love you both, you're like my family." Hermione smiled.

"Thanks Harry," she said. Ron nodded then frowned

"Oh, I forgot. How are you?" Hermione looked mortified that she had forgotten. Harry smiled at them. 

"I'm fine," he said. "Just tired." As if to emphasise his point he yawned. Hermione grinned.

"We really should go to bed," she said. Harry and Ron nodded in agreement, though Ron looked a little disappointed. As they climbed the stairs up to the boy's dormitories though, Ron turned worried eyes on Harry.

"Your not really going to tell the twins though, are you?" he asked pleadingly. Harry just smirked at him.

*******

About half-way through November Harry and Hermione were coming back to the Common Room from the library, Harry had begged for her help in writing a particularly nasty essay for transfiguration. As they entered the common room Ron looked up from his Charms homework, grinning.

"What are you smiling about?" Hermione asked, dropping her bag and going to sit by her boyfriend.

"Hogsmeade weekend," Ron replied, pointing at the notice board which was surrounded by a crowd of excited third years for who this would be their first visit. Harry suppressed a shudder as he remembered the reason why what would have been the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year had been cancelled.

"When is it?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Next weekend," Ron said happily. Harry did some quick maths in his head and breathed a sigh of relief. There wasn't a full moon that night.

"Great," he said. "We can get our Christmas presents then."

"It's a bit early, isn't it?" Hermione asked as three Filibuster Fireworks- courtesy of the Weasley twins- whizzed over her head.

"Yeah," Harry said, ignoring the fireworks- they were a common occurrence in the Gryffindor Common Room. "But who knows if we'll even get another one between now and Christmas?" Ron and Hermione shivered at the dark insinuation in his words. The three friends tried to return to their conversation but the light heartedness was gone as each felt the shadow that was hanging over the wizarding world.

When Saturday came, however, it came with a bright sun and cloudless sky. It was difficult to feel the threat of approaching darkness in such a blatantly cheerful day. Harry, Ron and Hermione travelled down to Hogsmeade along with Fred and George. When they arrived they split up. Harry, Ron and Hermione down to Honeydukes to stock up on sweets, and Fred and George, with clipboards, quills, and serious expressions to Zonko's to, they claimed, 'examine the opposition.'

Hermione had pointed out that they all ready knew Zonko's products off by heart. George had patiently explained that that was from the point of view of a customer, not a competitor. Hermione had looked like she wanted to argue the point but Ron and Harry seized her arms and dragged her off, yelling good-bye over their shoulders at the twins as they headed for the sweetshop.

About half an hour later they emerged from Honeydukes, pockets bulging with sweats. They meandered up the street, just enjoying the rare day of sunshine in November, nibbling on their purchases. Harry and Hermione were daring each other to eat the more oddly coloured Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans as Ron floated along next to them, chewing on a fizzing whizzbees.

"Hey," Ron said in surprise, dropping the Ice Mouse he was holding which squeaked in protest.

"Hey what?" Harry asked, snagging the Ice Mouse and brushing the dust off it.

"There's a big crowd outside the Shrieking Shack," Ron said, pointing.

"Why don't we go and see what the fuss is about?" Hermione suggested. Ron nodded enthusiastically and started off leading the way, seeing the path clearly from his vantage point of a couple of feet up in the air. Hermione followed him and Harry had no choice except to go as well, reluctantly. He had a pretty good idea what the crowd was about.

The three friends reached the back of the crowd, which was composed mainly of the Hogwarts students though there were a few of the local inhabitants as well. Ron- still floating- was able to look easily over the crowd to the sign pinned up on the fence surrounding the Shack.

"The Shrieking Shack," he read aloud for Harry and Hermione's benefit. "The most severely haunted house in Britain has finally broken its twenty year silence. There have been several reports in the recent months of the type of sounds that earned it its reputation nearly thirty years ago once again resound within its deceptively fragile walls." As he spoke Ron had been sinking slowly to the ground and as he read the last word out his feet settled on the ground and he turned puzzled eyes to Hermione and Harry. "How could that be?" he asked quietly. "It was Lupin thirty years ago."

"I know," Hermione said, eyes thoughtful. Harry felt a flare of panic and spoke quickly.

"Someone probably just put a recording inside the Shack," he suggested hurriedly. "For a prank or something." Ron laughed.

"That's certainly something that Fred and George would do," he commented. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Why don't we go down to the Three Broomsticks?" she suggested, pulling her cloak tight around her against the nip in the air. Harry felt a wave of relief that they had let the subject drop.

"Good idea," Ron said, "I could use a Butter Beer." He glanced at Harry. "Coming?" Harry smiled.

"No, I'll let you lovebirds have some privacy," he teased. Ron blushed but didn't argue. Hermione, however, still looked doubtful.

"Are you sure?" she asked. 

"I'm sure," Harry said. He grinned. "I need to get you your Christmas presents anyway." Ron laughed.

"We'll leave you then," he said. "C'mon Hermione."

Harry turned back to the Shack as his two friends set out back down to the village, feeling the smile slip from his face as he looked at his prison. He could hear various Hogwarts students excitedly discussing the vengeful ghosts that supposedly inhabited the Shrieking Shack. 'That's me' Harry thought, feeling sick. He turned away from the crowd hurriedly, fighting not to run. He moved swiftly, trying desperately to bury the pain the crowd's words invoked, the Darkness inside him that urged him to live up to their expectations.

"No!" Harry muttered. He leant against a shops wall, trying desperately to control himself. Tears pricked at the back of his eyelids. That's not me, I'm not that! Harry shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold air. The beast was inside him all the time, even if it was only at the full moon that it could manifest itself. Tears trailed down his cheeks and he wiped them away furiously. Stop this, Harry told himself angrily, this won't help anything! He glanced back up the hill to the Shrieking Shack and its silent promise. Harry swallowed, remembering what had happened there, what would happen again. Just a few more months, he told himself shakily, clinging desperately to that hope. Just a few more months, then the Wolfs Bane potion will take effect. And maybe Sirius and Lupin will be back.

Harry pushed himself away from the wall, trying to get a hold of himself and glanced at the shop he had collapsed next to. "Magical Jewellery for Friends and Loves." Curious, Harry moved to look in through the window and winced uncomfortably. A lot of the jewellery was silver. Harry frowned, looking over the jewellery available, than before he could stop himself he pushed open the door and entered. Once inside, however, he had to stop himself from running as silver surrounded him on all sides.

"Good day," Harry looked up to see a man with greying hair regarding him expectantly. "What can I do for you?"

"I need a present for a friend," Harry explained. The shopkeeper's eyes twinkled.

"A special friend?" he asked. Harry smiled in spite of himself and the painful prickling sensation that ran over his skin.

"Not exactly," he explained. "Two of my best friends got together just recently and I wanted to get them something special."

"Ah," the shopkeeper smiled and gestured to the counter. "What do you want to get them?" Harry approached the counter cautiously. 

"I was thinking one of those with the initials of their names entwined," he said. The shopkeeper nodded and pulled out a tray from underneath the counter. The loose metallic letters stored in it jingled against each other.

"Gold or silver?" he asked.

"Silver," Harry replied promptly. So they'll have a way to defend themselves against me he thought silently.

"And their initials?" the shopkeeper asked, oblivious to the thoughts going through Harry's head.

"'R' and 'H'" Harry told him. The shopkeeper pulled the appropriate letters out of the drawer along with two chains, placed them on the counter and tapped them with his wand. The shaped silver began to glow brighter and brighter until Harry was forced to look away. When he looked back, two silver necklaces lay on the counter, R and H entwined.

"If you wish," the shopkeeper suggested. "I could enchant them so that they grow warm whenever the owner of one of them is thinking of the other."

"That would be great," Harry said, trying to control his desire to leave the shop quickly. The shopkeeper dipped the two necklaces into the small cauldron of purple potion bubbling by the counter, then fished out to boxes and a piece of parchment.

"These are the instructions to activate the enchantment," the shopkeeper explained, handing the parchment to Harry.

"Thank you," Harry said, pocketing it. The shopkeeper glanced over at the clock set next to the cauldron, its single hand was pointing to 'finished'. The shopkeeper lent over and fished the necklaces out of the purple liquid. Harry thought that they seemed to glow with a faint luminescence now. The shopkeeper slipped them into the jewellery boxes and clipped them shut, dropping them into a bag.

"That's nine galleons please," the shopkeeper said. Harry fished nine of the large gold coins out of his moneybag and handed them over. The shopkeeper gave him his bag and called after him to have a nice day as Harry hurriedly left the shop.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he left the presence of the silver, except for the necklaces in the bag he carried. At least he thought as he made his way to the Three Broomsticks to meet up with his friends, Ron and Hermione will be protected from me now.

*******

Please review! And don't be afraid to criticise my attempts at romance, I'm not very good at it! But don't worry, this story in no way focuses on romance, and there is not a love triangle in sight.


	8. Christmas

Hi

Hi! Here is the next chapter at last, hope you enjoy it! (I really suck at author's notes don't I?)

********

A slight sound pulled Harry out of a deep sleep. He propped himself up on his elbow and groped on his bedside table for his glasses. Putting them on, he blinked blearily up at Hermione.

"Hermione?" he asked sleepily, "What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you two," Hermione said," and happy Christmas," she added pointedly. Harry blinked slowly at her then:

"Oh! Merry Christmas," he added hurriedly. Hermione snorted and moved over to stand by Ron's bed as Harry pulled himself up into a sitting position. The rest of the dormitory was empty, Neville, Dean and Seamus having gone home for the holidays. There was a pile of presents, most likely Hermione's, dumped on Neville's empty bed. Harry looked back round at her. She was standing next to Ron, staring down at him with an almost dreamy expression on her face. Sensing Harry's eyes on her she looked up, a smile playing around her lips.

"Doesn't he look sweet?" she whispered. She sighed and pulled her wand out. "But he really needs to wake up."

"Erm Hermione-" Harry spoke quickly, realising what she was about to do, "Why don't you just try shaking him fi-" Too late. Hermione flicked her wand and muttered.

"Aqueous," A jet of water of water spurted out of her wand, hitting Ron in the middle of the face. Ron shot up, eyes wide, gasping and spluttering, looking like a drowned rat. Harry couldn't help it, he started to laugh. Hermione put her hands on her hips and regarded the gaping Ron sternly. "Your, Sopping," She observed. She flicked her wand again. "Accio towel." She ordered. A towel came zooming into the room. Hermione caught it and dropped it on top of Ron who, still gaping, took it dazedly. Harry was still shaking with laughter.

"Her-Hermione!" Ron gasped.

"Yes?" Hermione asked sweetly.

"I'm sopping wet!" Hermione tapped her cheek with her wand thoughtfully.

"Yes, I had noticed that," she agreed. Ron stared at her, then turned to glare at the near hysterical Harry.

"Couldn't you have stopped her?" he asked plaintively. Harry choked back laughter and held his hands up in defence.

"Oh no, he said quickly. "She's your girlfriend." Ron snorted and muttered 'traitor.' He was shivering now. Hermione looked at him unrepentantly.

"You should have woken up before then," she said. Ron snorted

"That water was cold," he muttered. 

"Here," Harry said, taking pity on him and grabbing his wand. He flicked it. "Evaporatus" he ordered. Ron's bed and pyjamas dried instantly. Ron grinned.

"Thanks Harry," he said. Suddenly he spotted the pile of presents at the bottom of his bed. "Oh! Presents!" he exclaimed. Hermione rolled her eyes

"You've only just noticed them?" she asked. Ron ignored her and scrambled down his bed to them. Hermione sighed and plopped down on Neville's bed next to her own presents while Harry turned his attention to his own pile.

The Dursley's hadn't even sent a note this year, but Harry wasn't exactly heartbroken over that. Anyway, the rest of his presents more than made up for it. From Mrs Weasley the traditional Weasley jumper and some homemade toffee. From the Weasley twins a prototype of the 'Deluxe Weasley Wizard Wheezes Gift Box' to their 'investor.' From Hagrid, a selection of Honeydukes best sweets. There were three presents left. Picking up one, Harry read the note. It was from Sirius. Harry felt a leap of painful hope. Were he and Lupin back from their mission? Ripping open the paper, Harry eagerly unfolded the contained note, dropping the present itself on the bed.

Dear Harry,

Happy Christmas!

I'm sorry I not there, but Dumbledore's got an important mission for me and Lupin to go on, and in all probability it will go on past Christmas. Because of this, I've given your present to Dumbledore to forward to you at Christmas. It tracks the people whose names are recorded on it. If they are safe, the name glows green, if they are in danger, the name glows red. It gets redder depending on how much danger they are in. 

Take care of your self!

Sirius.

Harry swallowed, putting the letter down. They weren't back yet, probably wouldn't be back for a while. You'll survive he told himself firmly. It's not as if you have nay other choice.

"Hey Harry, What's the matter?" Harry looked up to see Ron staring at him, concerned.

"Nothing," Harry said. "Really," he added at Ron's disbelieving look. "Just a little freaked out at Sirius' choice of Christmas presents."

"What did he get you?" Hermione asked with interest. Harry picked up the present off his bed.

"This," he said, showing it to them. Harry studied it with interest as well. It was a black, rectangular box, but on it there were six names in raised lettering. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Lupin and Dumbledore. All six were glowing green, though Sirius and Remus's were had a red tinge to them. Harry looked at that, worried for them.

"What does it do?" Hermione asked, breaking into his thoughts. She listened with interest as Harry explained what the colours meant.

"At least we'll be able to keep track of you now," Ron commented with a laugh. Harry forced a smile as well and placed the box on his bedside table, thinking he'd have to hide it during the full moon, and then turned back to his last to presents. Ron had given him a new watch, (He'd never got around to replacing the one broken during the Second Task) and Hermione a heavy book entitled 'A Complete Guide to Curses and Counter Curses,' by Auror Alastor Moody.

"What's this?" Ron asked suddenly. Harry glanced over to see he'd pulled out the small box containing his Christmas present to him.

"I've got one to," Hermione said, picking her own up. Ron flipped open the card.

"'To Ron for Hermione, from Harry," He glanced over at Harry, puzzled.

"Open them," Harry instructed softly. 

"Oh Harry!" Hermione gasped as she opened the jewellery box to find the silver necklace. Ron had opened his as well.

"Hold them in your hands," Harry instructed, remembering the instructions on the piece of Parchment the shopkeeper had given him. "Now, think of each other." There was silence for a moment, and then both Ron and Hermione gasped.

"It shocked me!" Ron said, staring down at the necklace in his hand. Harry grinned.

"It's supposed to do that," he said. "Now exchange them." His two friends did so. He smiled. "They grow warm whenever the other is thinking of you," he explained.

"Oh!" Hermione squealed. She turned to Ron. "Put it one me," she demanded. Ron did so, and then slipped his own around his neck. Hermione gasped, hand going to the necklace. "It's warm!" she said. She flew at Harry hugging him."Thank you," she whispered. Harry hugged her back; ignoring the burning wear her necklace touched his skin.

"Yeah, thanks, Harry," said Ron. Harry smiled

"You're welcome," he said. Hermione let go of him and went over to give Ron a kiss. Harry sighed softly, feeling, strangely, safer now that his two best friends had an effective weapon against him.


	9. WolfsBane

HI byford Normal byford 2 12 2001-11-11T16:03:00Z 2001-11-11T16:49:00Z 2001-11-11T16:49:00Z 2 1295 7382 61 14 9065 9.2720 

HI! I'm really, really sorry that you've had to wait so long for this chapter but I have had a TON of work to do recently and have suffered writers block on this chapter. I've rewritten it at least three times! OK, the first section of this is rather disturbing, I think, and is written in Hermione's POV, a first for this story but a few people have asked for it in their reviews. I hope you enjoy it!

Katharos.

******

A soft sigh caught her attention and Hermione glanced up from the heavy book she was reading. A frown creased her brow as she looked at her friend. Harry was curled up on a window seat in the common room, his legs tucked under his body, his chin resting on his hand. The flickering orange light from the fire played over his body creating convoluted shadows on his body as his green eyes stared out unseeing into the darkening dusk towards the black stain of the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione bit her lip, unable to prevent the slight shiver that ran down her spine as she looked at him. 'This is ridiculous,' she told herself firmly. 'He's your friend, there's nothing…' And yet sometimes, recently, she had been unable to ignore the brief flash of fear she sometimes felt when she looked at her dear friend, her brother. Like now. She stared at him as the half moon's light painted his face in silver, his green eyes seeming to glow with a strange luminescence. He looked unworldly. Ethereal. 

A pain in her hands made Hermione look down in surprise. She had been gripping her book, the hard edges cutting into her palms and leaving red marks as she forced herself to relax her hands. She glanced up again. Harry hadn't moved, his silent regard of the twilight unchanged. Hermione frowned, hating this feeling that made her fear a friend, that couldn't be explained by logic or reason. And yet… She couldn't dismiss what made her spine crawl and something primal and ancient scream deep within her scream a warning. She shifted on the couch and Harry's head snapped up, glowing green eyes fixed on her and she froze, feeling like prey caught in the unflinching regard of a predator, who remained unmoving in the hope that this threat would pass by.

And then Harry smiled and relaxed and he was her friend again and she smiled back and released her book once more and she buried her thoughts and her fears deep inside herself where she couldn't see them and ignored the instincts that screamed, a hold over from a time when there were only predators and prey, the wolf that hunted and the weak humans who cowered and hid and ran.

For she was a product of this modern age and for all that she was a witch she dismissed the fears that her ancestors had known, the instincts that had kept them alive. And she had faith in a friend who had lost all faith in himself.

******

Harry sat in the hospital wing- a place with which he was too familiar - tense and nervous, his hands kneading together. He glanced up as Madam Pomfrey walked in, followed by Snape, who glanced away as soon as he felt Harry's eyes on him. Harry knew that Snape still felt guilty about what had happened to him, strange, really, when he thought about Snape's attitude to him before this year. He didn't blame the Potions Professor- not really. But still he couldn't completely banish he anger that stirred in him now whenever he saw the man, and his eyes followed him as Snape carefully placed the steaming goblet of Potion down on the table. Harry took a deep breath, rubbing his arms that suddenly prickled as if with cold- despite the fact that the Hospital wing was nicely warm even though it was early March and still cold outside- and eyed the goblet nervously.

"Go on, Harry," Madam Pomfrey said quietly. "We need to be sure you won't have a bad reaction to it." Harry reached out hesitantly and picked it up, cradling the heavy goblet with both hands and staring down at the viscous liquid. He remembered when he had first seen this particular potion, when Snape had brought it to Lupin the day before the full moon. He remembered he had thought it poison. He rotated the goblet gently, watching the dark potion slop against its sides. Wolfsbane. But his hope. He shifted uncomfortably feeling the two pairs of eyes on him, then with a quick, almost convulsive movement he lifted the goblet and gulped it down, hurriedly, before he lost his nerve.

His immediate thought was that Lupin had been right-it tasted disgusting. Harry made a face but continued choking it down until at last he had finished and he set the goblet down where it stood, smoking slightly. Harry looked hopefully up at Madam Pomfrey who was regarding him worriedly, trying not to gag as he felt the potion running through him, as if reaching to the very tips of his fingers. He imagined that if you could feel your blood running through your veins, this is what it would feel like. He ran his tongue around his mouth, trying to get rid of the bitter aftertaste.

"Could I have a glass of water, please?" he asked. Madam Pomfrey glanced at Snape, who nodded curtly, before she walked across to the sink and poured him a glass. Harry accepted it gratefully, swallowing it in great gulps, trying to get the disgusting taste out of his mouth, at the same time trying to still his tremors. This Potion was his hope, with the chance it offered for control, for reassurance that he wouldn't kill, wouldn't pass this curse onto another, no matter that he could feel the beast moving within him, even at the dark of the moon. Sirius' and Remus' lights had been bright red last night, and he had stayed up till past midnight watching them, waiting, for them to grow green once more; or to go out all together. He had fallen asleep at last when the lights had changed from an angry red to a soothing green. Madam Pomfrey was speaking and he forced himself to listen.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "You don't feel hot or anything?" Harry shook his head.

"I feel fine," he said. Madam Pomfrey glanced at Snape.

"If there are going to be complications, they'll appear in the first few minutes," Snape said shortly. "Either then, or when he actually transforms." Madam Pomfrey nodded.

"Alright then, Harry," she said. "You can go back to your classes now. But come to the Shrieking Shack tonight." Harry nodded and stood up, grabbing hold of his bag as he made his way out of the hospital wing, afraid to hope. Afraid that if he did, his hopes would only be dashed. He felt Snape's eyes on him as he hurried from the Hospital Wing and knew that Snape also hoped, hoped to gain a kind of redemption from this.

*******

Harry dropped down into the tunnel, landing with a thud. Above him the swish and crack of the Whomping Willow started up again as Madam Pomfrey moved away. Harry took a deep breath and started along the passage, forcing himself to hurry, trying to ignore the knowledge of what waited for him at the end, knowledge that sat heavily in his mind. At last he reached the end and hauled himself up through the trap door and swung it shut with a clang. Then he had nothing to do but wait. And think. Harry paced back and forth, worrying at his lip as his eyes darted around the dark Shack. He felt torn, fearing the change, and almost wanting it to come. Harry stopped, forcing himself to stand still and stared up at the night sky through the cracks in the boards covering one of the windows. The complete loss of control, his mind completely submerged by a viscous and animal hunger that he was unable to prevent… that was the true horror of this curse to him. Harry sank down onto the floor, arms hugging his knees tightly. He was so afraid, afraid that this hope would be shattered, that the Potion wouldn't work. That nothing would change. He stared up at the stars visible through the cracks with unseeing eyes and waited.

When the moon rose and the change swept over him, the wolf shape being pulled out of him by the same pull that moved the tides Harry arched his back and screamed. Convulsion racked his body as his bones and flesh twisted, reshaping him. As the changes ceased and spasms still racked his body Harry braced himself for horrific moment when his mind would slip away, submerged by dark and primal urges and no matter how hard he tried, no matter how strong his will nothing he could do could prevent it. As always Harry hung grimly onto his mind, too stubborn to just surrender, no matter how futile it might be. But now… Harry felt a dawning sense of wonder. The darkness was still there, the blood lust, as it always was even in the light of day. But this time his sense and reason, his humanity remained and Harry flung back his wolf head and let loose a howl of pure joy, a vast wave of relief crashing over him no matter the darkness that stirred restlessly still pounding against the barriers for his identity remained. He was himself!

******

R&R if you don't want another long wait!

(Blackmail, I know, but still…)


	10. Revision and Flying

*Hangs head in shame*

I am very, very bad. I think it's been half a year since I last updated? I'm really, really sorry. I am! I beg your forgiveness. I've actually had half this chapter sitting on my hard drive since I posted the last one, but I could never seem to finish. Well, here it is, finally, not really too late, no? he he he he… I'm sure a lot of you have given up on Dark Side of the Moon ever actually being finished, but it will! I promise you! Anyway, this chapter is something of a transition one but the next chapter, (which I promise you will be sometime before January!) will contain the required confrontation with Voldemort. Hopefully, it will be somewhat original. Here's a hint- the full moon is going to be rising soon, and Harry hasn't taken his WolfsBane potion! 

Now, can I please recommend that you go and read Thuunderer vs Warrior? I know it's based around two original character's, but Fortis and this version of Arabella Figg just waltzed into my head fully formed and demanded that I write it. It gives a bit of background information on the two Aurors, and hopefully has a nice contrast between humour and angst. Its been months since I put it up and I still have 0 reviews. If you think its awful, say so and what is awful about it so I can rewrite it! And I'll try to get the next chapter for this up before the end of October. And if you're really lucky, I might have the next chapter of Vampyre up as well!

******

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, the heat of the day still present in the air. Long shadows stretched out behind the two figures crossing the Hogwart's grounds, one determinedly pulling the other behind him.

"Ron!" Hermione protested, tugging futilely on the hand grasping her own. "Ron, the exams start in a week and I've still got a ton of revision to do! I can't-"

Ron sighed loudly, interrupting. "Hermione, you started revising months ago! And nagging me and Harry to start, and Neville and Lavender and Paravati and Dean-" He stopped hurriedly when he felt the glare Hermione was giving him. "Anyway," he recovered quickly, "the point is you haven't stopped since! You need a break."

Hermione gave him an exasperated look. "Ron, this isn't just some end of year exam," she hissed. "This is our OWLs! Our results will affect our entire future!" 

Ron rolled his eyes as they came to a stop just at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. "Hermione." He said impatiently. "You can't keep revising all the time, you have to do something else! Take a break, have some fun for God's sake!" 

Hermione frowned, "Ron," she said disapprovingly.

Ron groaned. "Hermione," he whined.

Hermione sighed loudly and crossed her arms. "Alright. What kind of fun?" she asked warily.

Ron looked down at her and grinned. "Oh I don't know," he said lightly. "How about this?" He kissed her. After a few minutes they broke apart.

"Well," Hermione said a little breathlessly, "that was… fun."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, his eyes a dazed.

Hermione smiled up at him. "You know," she suggested, " I don't think my results would suffer too much if I took a short break."

"Really?" Ron asked, a small grin playing across his face. Hermione laughed and pulled his head down for another kiss as their necklaces glowed warmly against their skin.

******

The air inside the Gryffindor Common Room hung hot and stuffy, even the slight breeze let in by the wide-open windows did little to dispel the heat. The room was silent, only the faint scratching of quills on parchment or the rustle as the page of a thick textbook was turned disturbed the stillness. An aura of strained tension hung in the air. Scattered around the room, the Gryffindor fifth years sat or lay in various postures from deep thought to frantic desperation. Death ray glares had driven all other members of the House to safer arenas, such as Snape's dungeons. The fifth year's OWLs were upon them.

Harry stared down at the scrap of parchment in front of him in disgust and decided nope, glaring at it wouldn't make this Divination calculation come out correct, no more than it had the previous six attempts. Harry sighed to himself as he screwed the incorrect equation into a ball and allowed it to fall to the floor to join its predecessor, his frustration manifesting itself in the barely restrained violence of his movements. He felt irritable; on edge as something tried it's hardest to burrow under his skin- and was succeeding. Harry sighed again as he pulled a fresh piece of parchment from the ready prepared pile. He knew what the cause of his tension was, of course. He couldn't afford not to. In less then two hours, he would be suffering through agonising pain as he made the transition to one of the deadliest creatures on Earth. It was more then that, however, and less. Quite simply, the full moon, so far hidden from view as the Earth slowly turned, was making its presence felt. 

Harry sighed a final time as he stared down at his latest sheet of parchment, barely able to prevent it from becoming a full-blown snarl. Normally he would have asked Hermione for help, or even Lavender and Patil. But Ron had finally managed to drag Hermione off somewhere for a break- God knew she needed it- and since he had almost bitten the heads off of the last people to approach him, the other fifth years were keeping their distance. Harry groaned and rubbed at the bridge of his nose- he knew he couldn't really blame all of this on the full moon, most of his classmates were just as snappy as the pressure began building up. And yet… Harry rubbed at his brow again and glanced back down at the still pristine parchment in front of him. Enough procrastinating he told himself firmly and picked up his quill, dunking the tip in the inkpot a little more vigorously than necessary. Now then, if at a person's birth Saturn was in the House of Ares and Jupiter was in ascendance then that meant…. Harry stared down at the parchment, tried to force his brain that had somehow been mysteriously transfigured into cotton wool to work and gave up, dropping the quill onto the page in front of him, causing the ink to splatter over the previously clean parchment. Cursing quietly to himself, Harry reached over the table, grabbed some blotting paper, and began cleaning up the mess he had created.

Of course, Harry realised as he dabbed ineffectually at the pool of ink on his table, he knew one reason why he was so on edge, besides the overwhelming pressure of the OWLs and the closed in feel of the Common Room. And that was the fact that this month's batch of Wolf's Bane potion had been spoilt when a first year, who had been waiting in Snape's private study to receive a detention for disrupting Potions Class, had decided that it would be interesting to see what would happen if he tossed one of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet Start No Heat Fireworks into the cauldron of lightly simmering liquid. The Weasley Twin's were already hailing the first year as their Heir. Harry was just afraid that there would be no Potion available for him to take on the night of the full moon. Wolf's Bane Potion had a very short shelf life, lasting only a couple of days at most before decomposing into its component parts, thus becoming useless. This meant that one batch of potion couldn't be used for more then one transformation- each batch had to be brewed individually every month as the moon waxed. Fortunately, Snape had been able to reassure Harry that their would be enough Potion ready for him to take for the full moon- and that was something he still had some problems with, even after a year to get used to it, Snape reassuring anybody, let alone him. Unfortunately, this meant that with only two hours to go until moonrise, Harry still hadn't taken the Potion. 

Harry shifted uncomfortably at that thought, remembering his early transformations without the influence of the Wolf's Bane Potion. Was it really less than a year ago that he had suffered through his first? Harry closed his eyes, remembering. It seemed so, so much longer since he had received the bite. The idea of going through one of the earlier transformations again caused bile to rise to the back of his throat as he remembered feeling his sanity, his mind slip away, and him powerless to prevent it, remembered awakening to the burn of self inflicted injuries, where the Wolf, in its madness and frustration, had turned on itself. Harry swallowed, forcing the memories to the back of his mind where the belonged. Stop it, he told himself firmly. You won't have to go through that again, the Potion will be ready in time. Snape gave his word. 

And that was another thing that took some greeting used to, Snape being trustworthy. But, Harry knew, as strange as it may have been when compared to Snape's attitude in previous years, Snape could be trusted. In fact, Snape's behaviour towards him had improved overall, he didn't think that he had lost more than thirty points all year, the change in behaviour extending even towards other members of Gryffindor. Harry supposed that this was Snape's way of making amends for his perceived guilt, even though he had forgiven him for his part in his curse. Mostly. I just wish it hadn't taken me becoming a werewolf for him to get an attitude adjustment, Harry thought, grimly. He sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall, then back down to his parchment. Ten minutes and the only markings on it was the smeared mess from his accident with the pen.

Harry sighed softly, screwed the parchment into a ball, and dropped it onto the floor to join the other creased balls as he stood up, pushing back his chair. Glancing around the room, he made his decision. There was no way he could concentrate on revising with the tension vibrating under his skin, and it was still a couple of hours 'till moon rise so…

Harry walked quickly through the common room, nimbly avoiding the sprawled figures on the floor, curled over sheets of notes, and made his way up the stairs to the fifth year boys dormitory. Pushing open the door, he swiftly made his way over to his bed and threw back the lid of his trunk. Harry rummaged through his various belongings, the amount of items a far cry from his situation almost five years ago. Had it really been that long? Shaking his head slightly, Harry began tossing his belongings up onto his four-poster. Long enough to have changed from an ordinary, if bullied boy around whom weird things occasionally happened to a werewolf, he thought slightly bitter. A spell book, robes, Sirius's weird Christmas present that had been hidden in the robes, exploding snap pack, were all pulled out of the trunk and thrown into a pile on his bed. Finally, Harry found what he was looking for and pulled his Firebolt out with a triumphant smile. Quickly, he hurried downstairs, through the common room and out of the portrait hole, not bothering to pause to stuff his belongings back into his trunk. The fifth years in the Common Room barely looked up as he passed, more concerned with cramming enough knowledge into their brains to leave them with a chance at a decent grade.

*******

As soon as he was out of the castle, Harry mounted his broom and kicked off. As he left the ground, felt the wind streaming through his hair, it as if he had left all of his problems behind him, down on the ground and he let his breath out in a huge, whooshing sigh. For a few minutes he just drifted lazily through the air, performing a few gentle turns and dips. Harry then grinned, leant forward, tightening his grip on the Firebolt's handle and shot forward, going at ever increasing speeds, until he pointed his broom down and went into a dive, not loosing any speed during the manoeuvre. Harry's mouth was stretched into a grin as he pressed his body closely to the streamlined broom as he shot closer and closer to the ground, then at the last possible second turning the broom back up, his toes brushing against the grass as he barely managed to avoid smashing into the ground, a scream of pure exhilaration ringing in his head as he went into a sequence of loop the loops dives and twists, feeling the tension and edginess drain away as he exalted in this. Flying. Freedom. Harry sighed in contentment and sent his broom into a lazy loop the loop, his eyes automatically darting around in search of a glint of gold. Abruptly he paused, holding his broom in place as he focused in on the ground. He had drifted near to the edge of the Forbidden Forest during his flight, and the glint of the last of the day's sunlight reflected of something caught his eye among the shadows under the first ranks of trees.

Curious, Harry directed his broom into a shallow dive, aiming for the reflected glitter that had captured his attention. He pulled his broom up just before he hit the ground and swung himself down, alighting softly on the grass. As soon as his feet touched the ground he froze, nostrils flaring. With the full moon only hours away his senses were preternaturally sharp, and he was almost overwhelmed by the stink of fear and blood that hung in the air around the tree. Fear, and the strange, spicy, almost bitter scent of magic. Harry swallowed and stepped forward carefully, his eyes darting around the area and his ears sharply tuned towards any noise towards the glitter that had originally caught his attention. His heart was pounding and his own fear rising as he knelt down in the soft grass. Almost before he stretched out his hand to pick the object up, he knew what it was going to be. But that did not stop a small moan from escaping his throat as he picked it up. It was Hermione's watch, the glass face cracked and the gold metallic strap twisted and warped. His body thrumming with tension, Harry lifted his head and scented the air. This time he could separate the different individual smells. The familiar scents of Ron and Hermione, and other, unfamiliar ones that stunk of old pain and old fear. The smell of blood brought Harry to his feet instantly, leading him to a tree just a short distance inside the Forest. The rough old bark was stained with blood, Ron's blood only an hour or so old, as if he had bashed into the tree and torn his skin. The Death Eaters weren't being careful with their prisoners then, Harry reflected grimly.

Harry took two steps into the Forest then hesitated and looked back towards the castle. He had no doubt that entering the Forest know meant a confrontation with Voldemort, and it really was only a matter of time before his look run out with those. He had no doubts that Voldemort was waiting for him in there, although his scar wasn't hurting anymore than the slight, dull ache that had been constant since Voldemort's resurrection. He could go back to Hogwarts, tell Dumbledore what had happened, and yet… Harry turned back to face the dark Forest. His friend's scents were clear. This close to the full moon, he could follow them as easily as a road at high noon. And they had probably been in Voldemort's hands for at least an hour… It was the memory of the agonising pain of the Cruciatus curse that decided him. Taking a deep breath, Harry set his back firmly to Hogwarts and plunged into the Forbidden Forest


	11. The Hunt

Ummm… If I'm not careful this authors note will just end up being a repeat of the last one. *grins sheepishly*

There is nothing I can really say to make this better, is there? So all I will say is thank you to everyone who has remained with me, I am in awe at your Patience. I really hope that this chapter lives up to your expectations. It might be a bit strange in places, I've recently been reading a lot of werewolf fiction and I think that its come through in my writing. 

Thank you again!

Cate

PS Would it be really cheeky of me to ask for feedback?

Dark Side of the Moon

********

Although out on the open grounds it was still light, day not yet faded, under the trees it was already night. The tress branches twined together overhead, forming a canopy that prevented the last of the sunlight from filtering through. Small noises drifted through the still air beneath the trees: scatterings and rustlings and twitterings- the nocturnal creatures preparing for their day. It was cooler underneath the trees than it was in the open and Harry shivered as he moved forward on silent feet, weaving between the crowded trunks.

To Harry, everything seemed thrown into sharp relief, images somehow clearer now in the darkness than they appeared in the bright of day. All five of his senses were flooded with information, so much so that it would have been overwhelming for a normal person. Harry felt a shiver of unease at that thought, but he pushed it aside. He could worry about his humanity- or lack thereof – later. Now, he needed to find his friends.

Harry paused by a particularly large tree trunk, its old grey bark riddled with moss, and listened; opening his ears wide to the slightest sound. It was unnerving to be here, in these woods, so close to the moonrise and the tearing agony of the Change it brought, with his senses already shifting in preparation for that transformation. Always before, by the time he was this far along, he would have travelled through the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow and would have locked himself in the Shrieking Shack, whose barren, destroyed interior was hardly a feast for the senses. 

But here… Harry inhaled deeply through his nostrils, the richness and variety of the scents and smells her received in response nearly overwhelming. The sweet, sickly smell of the decaying leaves underfoot, the enticing scent of the small, warm bodies of Prey, the high, light scent of a Unicorns passing…

Harry shivered as something deep inside him seemed to rumble in satisfaction, satisfaction at being here, in this wild forest, instead of being shut up, enclosed, trapped in a wooden box with the moon rising outside. iHome/i it seemed to whisper. Harry took a deep breath and pushed the opposing feelings – it seemed as if his feelings were always divided now- of unease and comfort/satisfaction firmly away. He scented the air, and detected the familiar, loved scent of his 

ipack/i

friends. But he could also smell the stench of fear on their scents, and the smell of strangers surrounding them. Harry felt a low growl rumble up through his chest and let it, his nostrils full of the stench of those who had dared to take his friends. iPrey/i the Wolf whispered. iPrey/i he agreed, and flowed forward, deeper into the darkness of the forest.

*****

The pull of the moon was stronger now, and though it was not yet risen, the shivering it raised along Harry's spine was a warning, a warning that he wilfully ignored in favour of his friends. The soft, barely felt breeze shifted slightly, bringing with it the smell of ashes and burning wood. He stilled instantly, then sank close to the ground, his movements commanded by instinct. He began moving towards the origin of that smell, freezing and sinking close to the ground whenever his preternaturally sharp ears caught a suspicious sound. Harry dimly registered – with the small part of him not focused on the hunt – that his movements were too graceful, too sinuous, to be human. A human was not made to prowl so close to the ground as he did, as if muscles that man are not supposed to posses moved under his skin.

But he wouldn't think of that.

Through the trees, Harry caught sight of the flickering red light of a fire and he stilled instantly, settling down close to the ground, his body pressing against the cool, damp earth. His eyes half closed as he watched the scene in front of him to avoid ruining his night vision. He was far enough away that a number of trees obscured his view of the clearing, but the fire provided a perfect back-drop for the activity. It was huge. The flames danced, rising and falling, but never dieing completely. They were a brilliant, almost unnatural red, and their light cast a ruddy glow over the clearing, making it appear as if the trees and ground and figures were drenched in blood. A flurry of sparks rose from the fire as a branch shifted, a brilliant purple darkening to black the higher they rose.

Harry presses himself closer to the ground, eyes narrowed, watching as darkened figures moved back and forth before the fire, silhouetted against the flames. He had to clench his teeth and dig his fingers into the ground as he saw his friends, drenched in the blood-glow of the red fire. Their arms were pulled back, and a huge burly Death Eater stood behind each of them, gripping their upper arms in a vice holds. Hermione's face was a twisted rictus of fear, her hair wilder than ever, one shoulder of her robe torn in a long, ragged strip, exposing her shoulder as she twisted ineffectually in her captors grip. Ron hung limply in the other Death Eater's hold, seemingly unable to support himself, though he would try stubbornly and repeatedly to get his feet under him. Shudders occasionally racked his body and his face was deathly white and strained, pain and fear telling their own tale. Abruptly, Harry realised what must have happened to him and felt his own body shudder in empathy.

Cruciatus.

Cautiously, Harry lifted his head and flared his nostrils, scenting the cool air. The stench of his friends fear was overwhelming, even covered as it was by the smell 

of the magical fire, and Harry dug his fingers even deeper into the ground as fierce, burning anger and white hot rage at the ones who would do this to his 

friends flooded his soul. All except for one tiny, deep, darkened piece of him that was excited by the smell of his friends fear.

Harry forced the nausea that welled up at the back of his throat away as he began moving softly, carefully, pushing back the self-loathing that threatened to choke him. Later, he told himself. Worry about what you're becoming later. Now, concentrate.

Carefully, Harry moved, hardly noticing the elegant, sinuous, and utterly inhuman motion with which he did so. Physical changes seemed somehow less important now. His eyes darted about, piercing the darkness as he circled the clearing. The patrolling Death Eaters were holes of deeper blackness against the darkness of the forest night. But his predator ears could hear the pulsing, rushing of their hot blood through their veins, and as any predator, he could smell their warm, living flesh. Harry trembled, feeling his humanity slip away piece by piece. The outer ring of Death Eaters was spread thin, easily avoided, but the inner ring was denser, and made up of older, more experienced wizards. 

Harry paused where he was blended in with a low lying bush, barely a metre away from a black-robed Death Eater, as reason swam up from the depths of his moon fevered brain. 'Even if you do manage to get past these Death Eaters, how in hell do you think you're going to get Ron and Hermione free?' He hesitated – and in that moment's hesitation, everything went to hell.

*******

Marcus Anthron was a younger child, having several older siblings, of an old pure-blood family. As such, he stood to inherit little from his parents when the old geezers finally croaked- little more, most likely, than a barely adequate trust fund to live on. But he was a pure blooded wizard of several generations, and therefore most eligible to join his Lord's elite force. Indeed, his dissatisfaction with his lot in life had made him an ideal candidate, and when an old family friend had approached him with the idea he had leapt at the chance. So far, the only negative consequence of his choice he had found was the discovery that one of his elder brothers was already in service to his Lord.

That, and the fact that until he had proven himself to his master he was stuck with boring assignments. Idly, Anthron glanced down – and froze. Primitive terror washed through him at the sight of two glowing green eyes gleaming at him trough the undergrowth. So might his ancestors have frozen, caught in the stare of a hunting wolf.

Hen he had snapped free of his paralysis and was plunging his hand into his robes, grabbing at his wand, and the creature was moving and he was shouting some spell – he wasn't sure what – and then; Hell blew wide open.

******

Harry was moving even before the Death Eater had finished articulating his spell, easily avoiding whatever curse it was. But the flash of light that accompanied it, blazing through the night, was blinding to his dilated eyes. Harry cursed softly, slipping away from the frantic Death Eater, blinking his throbbing eyes furiously to try and clear them. 

The sound of a spell rushing through the air warned him and he threw himself to one side out of its passage. There was a cracking, popping sound and Harry yelped in pain as a glob of burning sap landed on the back of his neck, roasting his flesh. Vision clearing, Harry could see where the curse he had dodged had hit a tree, the bark and wood of the trunk bulging outwards. The heat from the curse had boiled the sap instantly. Harry shuddered as he imagined what that curse would have done to his flesh.

There were more Death Eaters coming, hurrying towards the commotion. Harry could hear the shouts, see the bobs of the lights of ilumos./i/Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to move, ignoring the way the burnt skin at the back of his neck pulled painfully.

There was another shout and he leapt away from the Death Eater who had spotted him, running. But this time he was not quite quick enough to dodge the curse and it caught him on his left leg. He went down, snarling and cursing, and managed to fight past the iimpedimenta/i fording himself to continue running, but the slight delay was costly and they were upon him.

He went down in a whirl of fists and teeth and kicks, the Wolf screaming at being cornered by his enemies and he had fastened his teeth into the neck of one of his captors before he realised what he was doing, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth, and he let go, horrified. But that moment of hesitation had been enough for his enemies to gain the advantage, and he was far outnumbered.

In the end, it took three full grown Death Eaters to bear his slim, young body to the ground. 

Harry continued to struggle, unable to just submit – and that stubborn part of his nature came from both the Wolf and the Human. He surged upwards again, fighting against the hands that held him, but then stars exploded behind his eyes, his head ringing from the harsh blow as he let out a cry of pain and sagged, dazed.

He was dimly aware when rough hands dragged him up, pushing and pulling at him to stumble forwards in the direction they steered him. Harry felt the pain in his head spike every time he was shoved by his uncaring captors. After what seemed like an age, they left the shelter of the trees, stepping out into the clearing where the remaining Death Eaters gathered to watch the show.

Harry felt as if the light from the fire was shooting hot spikes of pain through his eyes to the back of his skull and he closed them, moaning softly in pain. A hard shove between his shoulder blades made him stumble and almost fall, forcing him to open his eyes once more. He caught a glimpse of Ron and Hermione's horror stricken faces before he was pushed quickly passed them and thrown violently to the ground. 

He landed awkwardly, knocking his breath out of himself and sending another lance of pain through his brain. Slowly, he looked up, already knowing what he would see. Seated on a throne hewn from rock, red flames painting macabre pictures over his black robes, Lord Voldemort smiled down at him, his lipless mouth twisted upwards in pleased amusement, his red snake eyes and echo of the hell fire burning before him.

"Hello Harry," he said gently, and Harry felt a shiver run through him at the sound of the voice that echoed in his nightmares. 

"We've been waiting for you."

*********

Is it really wrong of me to leave you with a cliff hanger after not having updated for more than five months?


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